


Undercurrents

by SylverLining



Category: Free!
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-28 03:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylverLining/pseuds/SylverLining
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fishing on a frigid January afternoon outside a snowbanked village, Makoto catches something unexpected. There are many less dangerous things than playing with creatures of myth, but few so rewarding. Mermaid/sea nymph AU. No warnings that I can think of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Well, he DID catch something.

Makoto let his eyelids drop, heavy as he watched the regular, hypnotic movement of the fishing bobber, a tiny red and white spot among slate grey. The world was a monochrome in winter, steely cold ocean reflecting the heavy, low-hanging clouds, dark with the approach of rain. He shivered, huddling deeper into his scarf and thick coat, white-knuckled hands holding tight to the fishing rod to keep steady.

It was just stubbornness keeping him out here by now, this close to an icy January rain - or, more likely, sleet, even snow. Just one fish, he bargained with the grey expanse. Even a tiny one, then he'd go home. But even this thought was a vague one, dull as the overcast sky, as he stared, lulled by the constant rhythm of the bobber - that suddenly dropped.

"Ah!" He gasped as the reel jerked, almost jumping out of his hands. Makoto got over his surprise quickly, pulling back and going to work reeling in whatever was on the other end of the line. It was a big one, that was for sure. There was an unusual resistance, the line pulled taut - and then the fish pulled back. Hard. Makoto let out a yelp as he was almost pulled off-balance and yanked into the frigid water. Bewildered but determined, he dug his feet into the cold, wet wood of the pier, and strained to raise the monster fish fighting him in an unexpected tug-of-war. 

Slowly, the line began to move in Makoto's favor, the resistance fading until his steady effort was rewarded. Just a little more. It was almost his. Just a few more reel turns and - 

Something broke the surface. Makoto's jaw fell open, and he almost dropped the pole again.

It was a hand. A human hand, holding the fishing line tight in a fist. A cold surge of fear swept down his spine as Makoto remembered village rumors that turned out to be all too true, stories about bodies washing up on shore, local fisherman accidentally hooking cadavers and pulling bloated corpses from the rime. 

Please no, he begged silently, frozen. Please, God, don't let it be a body.

His wide eyes grew larger as he realized that although he wasn't reeling it in anymore, the hand was still rising out of the water. A wrist emerged from the near-freezing sea, then a forearm, so pale it was almost white (Oh, God, it was a frozen body, wasn't it?), then an elbow, a shoulder... then a head. Water streaming from black hair, a pale face of a boy turned up to look at Makoto with steady blue eyes, curious but entirely calm.

Makoto stared. Rather, they stared at each other for a few long seconds. Now, the way he'd been hypnotized by his bobber he was transfixed by the head and shoulders that floated serenely before him, as if their owner were gently treading water just below the surface. The boy blinked, slow and contemplative, and Makoto realized fully in a rush that he really was alive. The horrible spell was broken. He gulped in a breath (he'd forgotten about oxygen for a while there) and spoke, voice tight with shock and concern.

"Are you all right?" He didn't really know what he expected. Of course the boy wasn't all right, no matter how calm he looked. Who could be, in 40-degree water? 

The boy in the water simply looked at him for a moment, seeming deep in thought about his answer. "Yes." 

"You must be freezing! What are you doing in there?" 

Another contemplative pause. "Swimming." 

"But it's - aren't you cold?"

"I love the water." 

Makoto didn't actually have an answer for that, and now - absurdly - he was starting to feel awkward. What exactly did one say to a strange boy, inexplicably hooked on one's fishing line? "Well - it can't be safe, swimming in the middle of-"

"What are _you_ doing?"

"Fishing," he answered automatically, social reflexes overcoming the strangeness. 

"Why?"

"My little brother and sister are hungry. It's been a hard winter for the whole village and I thought I could catch some..." He trailed off, staring at the young man who still held onto his fishing line. Well, he had caught something. Just not what he'd expected.

The water boy gave a slow, solemn nod, as if Makoto had passed some kind of unspoken test. "Keep reeling. You can have what's on the end of your line." Without even taking in a breath, the boy's head slipped silently below the surface.

"Wait! No!" Makoto lurched forward, falling to his hands and knees on the pier. He strained to see into the deep water, waving one hand and shouting for the strange young man to come back - but the sea was as dark, opaque and unbroken as it had been before he appeared. 

Finally, he came to his senses enough to remember what he'd heard. Picking up his pole again, he quickly reeled in the rest of his line, almost afraid of what he might find. Finally, his bobber broke the surface, and he gaped at what he saw.

Hooked on the line, flapping weakly at the air, was a large mackerel.


	2. Not at all beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haru's friends don't think playing with humans is a good idea. They're probably right.

"Well, I still think you're crazy," Nagisa chirped, flippant, as he swirled his yellow-scaled tail in a lazy circle. "It's like Miss Ama says - a fish out of water is worth two in the... wait, uh, a fish in time saves... no, that's not it either."

"He means," Rei sighed, tone long-suffering but fond. "That nothing good comes from dallying with humans. They're bad luck, they can't breathe underwater, and they certainly have no interest in making friends with us."

"I dunno - whenever they see me, they scream and try to catch me!" Nagisa wriggled. "It's kinda fun! But don't let them catch you - you'll disappear up onto the land and never be seen again, woooo-aaahaha!" He wiggled his fingers at Haru for spooky emphasis.

"They don't even have tails," Rei said almost sorrowfully, plucking a near-microscopic bit of seaweed from between his glorious scales that shone every color of the rainbow. "Not at all beautiful." 

"What were you thinking, giving him a fish?" Rin circled the small group, apart from the others, present but never still. His sharp fins cut through the water in irritated jags. "They take too much as it is."

"His family was hungry," Haruka stated, calm as ever. He'd let his friends chatter and mill around him, quiet until asked a direct question. "I could help him, so I did."

"Well, humans need to eat too, I guess," Nagisa reflected, joining Rei in grooming the gleaming, multicolored scales. Rei didn't protest Haru's adventures anymore, lapsing into a contented silence at the attention. "He DID look nice. A little panicky, but nice!"

"You were watching?" Haru turned his cool gaze toward his perkier friend.

"From a distance!" Nagisa defended himself with exaggerated self-righteousness. "Someone needs to keep an eye on you while you're playing with dangerous creatures, Haru!"

"Dangerous is right," Rin glowered, making another pass over them in his endless circling. "What have we been told since we were babies? Stay away from the shoreline and everybody on it. What if you get caught in a net? You'd be hauled up and beached and have your tail cut off, and it would be your own damn fault. You belong in the water, Haru." He leveled his hard red stare at Haru's calm blue one. "And humans belong on land. Accept it, and live where you're free." 

"Maybe we can bring him down here!" Nagisa suggested.

"He'd drown." Rei rolled his eyes. "I told you, they can't breathe under - hold still, Nagisa! What are you doing, cleaning my tail when yours is such a mess! Come here."

"No! Chase me!"

Haru reflected silently, ignoring their respective squeals and chiding. After a moment, he found himself looking into Rin's narrowed eyes again; the shark-boy had swum up from beneath and floated directly in front of him. 

"I know what you're thinking, and it's a stupid idea." Rin folded his arms, studying Haru's impassive face. "What was he doing when you saw him? Holding a pole, with a hook at the end of the line. A hook, Haru. What do you think those things are for? Humans kill whatever they bring out of the water. Don't go making friends with boys with hooks. I'm not going to watch you get beached." 

Haru didn't answer, and Rin knew better than to wait for one. With one last hard glance, he wheeled around and descended into deeper waters.


	3. Stronger Than Superstition

The next day Makoto went to the pier alone, he walked home with three more large mackerel. The visit was a welcome one, as it took his mind off strange, jumbled thoughts he didn't particularly enjoy. He'd woken up suddenly this morning, startled by an unsettling dream. It was one he'd had many times, but could never quite recall. Just the impression of having relived something disturbing and beautiful all at once, shining and precious and quick to slip through his fingers.

It had been like that for years. A sudden awakening, the feeling that he'd dreamed something strange and important. _(Deep water, dark water, cold, pulled beneath... A glint of light, something that moved in the deep...)_ Then a struggle to remember, and an eventual resignation that he might never know.

So he was glad to have someplace to go to forget. This time he wasn't surprised to see the pale face above the chilly water, nor was he put off by the presence of another person at his secluded fishing spot. the mere fact that he wasn't alone here was as strange as anything else. On the village outskirts and out of eyeshot or shouting distance from any other buildings, this place was all but deserted, had been for years.It wasn't just the isolation that kept even the most experienced fishermen and sailors from this quiet spot. The same tongues that wagged about bodies pulled up on hooks and lines cautioned against going out alone at night, or to this rocky shore even in the daylight. Ladies swore up and down that they'd heard voices, cries and strange sounds like singing that echoed eerily in the inky dark. Grizzled old men muttered around their pipes about shapes in the fog, sinuous bodies that slipped among the jagged rocks that stuck out of hte dark water like dragons' teeth.

Haunted. That was the word. The one that made Makoto cover his ears and shut out the warnings, because if he listened to the cautionary tales in the slightest, he'd spend his afternoons holed up in a bright, warm house instead of here, making sure his family lasted the winter. Nothing made him shiver like the whisper of ghosts, watery spectres waiting to pull him into black depths. By all rights, his superstitious nature should have kept him safe and dry at home.

But something stronger than superstition kept pulling him back. A memory, faint like a childhood melody or wisp of a dream. A significance that nibbled and scratched at the back of his brain. And while he didn't know why he felt so drawn to that familiar dock (why familiar? From where did he know it?) he wasn't about to argue with his subconscious, especially if it meant he got free fish out of the bargain.

Four fish, and one friend.

"Hello, Haru!" He called as his footsteps went from crunching over frozen earth to clumping onto solid wood. He waved, and was pleased to see the young man raise a hand in reply. The first few times he hadn't waved back, just stared, as if the gesture was unfamiliar. "Catch anything today? Not for me, I mean!" He hurried to amend. The water boy had already been so generous to him already, he didn't want him to think his kindness was taken for granted. "I meant for you. Have you had enough lately? I don't want you going hungry because you're giving it all to me."

It had taken a while for Makoto to even accept the gifts, out of a combination of politeness, concern and pride. But when he argued too hard, Haru tended to simply swim away around a bend in the shoreline, leaving Makoto behind with the fish and the choice of graciously accepting the help, or leaving them to rot on the pier. After a few sequential days of this, Makoto learned to simply go with the flow.

He always did most of the talking. He told Haru about his life, local gossip and entertaining or baffling things his young siblings had done. Haru never had much to say in return, but he always listened intently, quietly absorbing everything Makoto had to say. Makoto couldn't say exactly why, but there was something refreshing and comforting in having this undivided attention. He felt appreciated, valued, as if the things he had to say were truly important in ways he didn't get in the rest of his life. All in all, sharing his thoughts with Haruka in exchange for fish was more than a fair trade. In this way, the weeks passed in quiet exchanges and companionable silences.

"I'm fine," the boy in the ocean replied in his reticent but not unkind way. "There are plenty of fish in the sea."

Makoto hesitated, then laughed - he was never entirely certain when Haruka was joking. His face was always as cool and impassive as the water that surrounded him, but sometimes a rare glint of - something - crept into his clear blue eyes that hinted of laughter, hidden dimensions beneath the surface.

"Well, I hope your family is as grateful as mine is. Ren and Ran love you already, they want to meet the man who catches their dinner." Haruka remained quiet, so Makoto continued. "But I told them you were very shy." He paused, smiling as he searched his friend's face for any hint of a reaction - but Haruka sank down a bit until the water slipped over his nose. Any smile he might have had was hidden, but Makoto was sure he could see it in the eyes that stayed fixed on him.

"I want to meet them," he said when he resurfaced, looking faraway. "But..."

"You live far away and have to get home."

"Yes."

"Where exactly whas that again? A village down the coast, did you say?" Makoto kept his tone light and casual - Haruka had never actually given him a straight answer about where he came from or where he went. Asking directly hadn't worked, so Makoto tried a bit of craftiness, not really expecting to succeed.

"No." Haruka said at last. "From the water."

Makoto blinked, surprised. He'd expected Haruka to remain tightlipped about this, as he did with everything. "What does that mean?" He asked softly, feeling suddenly very aware that the answer was very important.

He was overcome by the strangest feeling of wavering on the edge of a cliff, or about to step into very deep water. Almost lightheaded, he felt himself tenuously balanced on a precipice, not at all sure what waited on the other side, but knowing he had to find out.

The way Haruka stared back at him, Makoto was sure he felt the same strange sense of intense importance. His blue eyes were wide and his mouth hung slightly open, not out of surprise, but indecision. He was on the edge of a cliff same as Makoto, about to reveal a secret that Makoto's subconscious already knew without knowing, something that made his heart flutter like a bird trapped in his ribcage, beating out secrets against the walls of his chest.

"Don't come here tomorrow," Haruka said in a whisper, shocking Makoto from his reverie. "There's a storm coming."

And with that, he sunk below the surface, iron-grey water closing over the top of his head. Makoto called for him to return, and kept calling his name for long after he knew Haruka wasn't coming back.

# # #

There _was_ a storm coming.

Makoto found that out the next day as he ran down the deserted road toward the pier. It was barely past noon, several hours earlier than their customary meeting time, but the sky was as dark as if the sun had set at midday. There was a charge in the air, the kind of electricity that made the hair on his arms stand on end, and the inside of his nostrils tingle as he breathed. Above him came the heavy rumble of approcahing thunder.

The pier. He could see it through the trees now, and quickened his step. The raised wooden pathway stretched out over water that rippled with unpredictable breezes, harbingers of a gale. Dark, angry thunderheads hung oppressively low, lit up by flashes of buried lightening.

But Makoto didn't see the storm.

"Haru!" He called, raising his hand and somehow feeling intensely relieved to see the boy there. But something was different. instead of water lapping at the nape of his neck, Haruka actually had visible shoulders, arms, a pale back with sharp shoulder blades turned toward Makoto's approach. He sat on the pier - or rather lounged, resting on one hip and an elbow.

Makoto smiled, about to make some ridiculous joke - "So you're not just a floating head! You have a body after all!" - but his grin froze on his face. Haru turned. His eyes widened and his face drained of color as Makoto felt his joy turn to cold shock.

Haru did have a body. But not one like Makoto had ever seen. From the waist up they were the same, but the skin below his hips turned grey, rubbery with a wet sheen. Thick in a graceful curve that spread across the dock with rounded triangular fins, was a tail. No scales like the fish he caught, the tail tapered to end in a pair of horizontal flippers. Beside him rested a small pile of fish.

A rushing filled Makoto's head, a ringing in his ears screamed _yes, yes, this was it_ , this was what he'd always known, this wasn't an alien enigma, this was familiar and true, this was _recognition_ , brilliant and blinding as the lightening that crackled and flashed around them.

Makoto stared. Haruka stared back, silent and stunned and more vulnerable than Makoto had ever seen him. Then his face changed. Makoto recognized the telltale sign of what was about to happen, and he reached out one hand as if he could stop it.

"Haru, no! Don't go!"

But it was too late. A flurry of desperate movement, a splash, and he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I realize that mermaid/selkie/sea nymph AUs have probably been done to death... but dammit, this scene just wouldn't leave me alone. There will be more. Including other mer-boys, yes. This is my first Free! fanfiction, and I enjoyed it more than I even expected.


End file.
